[Deep Beneath Gringotts]
Scrimgeour and the Aurors' sudden departure didn't attract much attention.
To put it bluntly, the truth was that this group's presence on the battlefield was so pathetically weak that whether they were here or gone made almost no difference.
Compared to them, Voldemort, floating in the air like a god, endlessly swinging black-and-red lightning, was obviously far more eye-catching.
The moment he aimed his spearhead at the position below, the strange balance of the battlefield was instantly broken.
The Death Eaters also began pouring out firepower behind Voldemort without the slightest restraint.
As flames and green light roared, the Hunters' casualties began rising at an alarming speed.
Looking down at Emily and the others who were barely resisting, the fury in Link's eyes had practically taken on physical form.
Although after the last clash Link had summarized a great deal of experience, allowing him to keep Voldemort "kited" for quite a while with the Hunters' assistance, before an absolute gap in power, tactics and strategy were all nothing but empty illusions.
While he had still been firing at Voldemort trying to pull aggro, Link suddenly froze in midair.
He lowered his wand, slowly closed his eyes, and let his spiritual power sink downward.
———
[Inside the Mindscape]
Little Mike's tiny figure was curled up in the corner of the cage of the mind.
Sensing Link's arrival, he lifted his head from his knees and looked toward Link's spiritual form.
"Are you going to use me to fight again?"
The other obviously hadn't spoken aloud, yet the words reached Link's ears with perfect clarity.
More importantly, Link could detect a faint mockery on that expressionless face.
This was how spirit-to-spirit communication worked.
Hearing this, Link's spiritual expression darkened.
Of course, with Link's level of shamelessness, it wasn't the mockery that upset him, it was Mike's change.
Link still remembered that two years ago, Mike had been a spiritual body who could barely speak clearly.
But now?
His intelligence had matured greatly, and he had even mastered spiritual communication to this degree.
Looks like the Mindscape isn't just a cage that traps him, it's also a spring that nourishes his spiritual body. If he keeps staying here… what will he eventually become?
Link couldn't help thinking.
But he quickly pushed the thought aside.
Right now, the priority was to transform as soon as possible to deal with Voldemort.
Even though his safe transformation time wasn't much longer than that of an Ultraman, at least he could delay Voldemort for a while.
Without wasting words, Link willed the great cage of the mind to retract.
In the next instant, Mike's spiritual body swelled rapidly and seized control of the physical body without hesitation.
Watching this, Link let out a series of cold sneers.
So arrogant, yet what could he do?
When a chance to "get fresh air" appeared, even if it was only a few minutes of freedom, he still scrambled for it.
Such was the hypocrisy of a prisoner.
———
On the battlefield, as the Hunters' commander and top combatant, Link naturally drew many eyes from both sides.
Seeing him suddenly enter a silent state, head lowered, muscles loosening, many people jumped in alarm.
The difference lay here, Emily and the Hunters were truly panicking.
The Death Eaters, however, after their moment of shock, felt a surge of wild joy.
Every one of them knew exactly how much Voldemort valued Link.
If they could kill, or even capture, him alive, Voldemort's reward would be enormous.
In an instant the Death Eaters seemed to go mad and began concentrating all fire on Link, desperate to seize his head.
But they didn't notice that the moment Link had closed his eyes, a faint cold mist had already begun forming around him.
All kinds of attacks crashed into the thin mist, doing nothing except stirring the air. They didn't even ripple its surface.
This shocked Emily and the others, who had almost charged through Voldemort's bombardment to rescue Link.
Only a few of the old "Holy Elders" who had once fought alongside Link and Voldemort seemed to realize something; their faces changed dramatically as they shouted for everyone to gather for defense.
Meanwhile, the cold mist grew denser and denser.
This mist, condensed from magic and moisture, seemed to possess extremely high "energy density." Even someone of Voldemort's level couldn't penetrate it with his senses.
The chill it released continuously eroded everything nearby; it blocked all attacks while also concealing Link's figure.
Thump! Thump!
A powerful heartbeat suddenly echoed from within the mist.
The sound wasn't loud, but it struck everyone's mind directly, freezing every movement on the field.
Voldemort finally noticed what was happening.
He turned his head, his golden snake pupils instantly contracting to slits.
"I'll kill you!"
A terrifying roar exploded forth.
As though recalling some unbearable memory, Voldemort swung his arms hysterically.
Flames, lightning, storm winds, snow and ice, terrifying spells like natural disasters poured out one after another, crushing the expanding mist inward.
But he still couldn't break through its defense…
And amid this frenzy of bombardment, Like ink dropped into clear water, a plume of black smoke, formed entirely from concentrated curse energy, rose from the center of the mist.
The next moment, a pair of scarlet eyes filled with madness and killing intent snapped open at its heart.
"ROAR!"
A bestial roar rang out.
A massive beam of black-and-red lightning shot forth, slamming directly into the green light in Voldemort's hands.
The clash of their unimaginable magic shook the world; rock walls shattered, and plasma condensed from raw magic splattered everywhere. The force far surpassed the previous clashes between Hunters and Death Eaters.
But this time was different, the one being pushed back was no longer Link, but Voldemort.
No matter how fiercely Voldemort poured power into the spell, that ominous green light shrank rapidly against the barrage of higher-density curse energy.
Seeing no other choice, Voldemort imitated Link's earlier tactic.
With a twist of his wrist, he steered the huge beam aside...
BOOM!
It drilled deep into the rock wall like a hot knife through butter, carving a bottomless tunnel.
And yet Voldemort, who had just been suppressed, actually revealed a vicious grin.
From that brief exchange, he understood perfectly, Link had once again entered that bizarre transformed state.
In that form, Link's magic strength could barely match him toe-to-toe, but so what?
In that state, Link lost most of his rationality.
A beast with nothing but raw strength, what was there to fear?
He was Voldemort.
As the peak of magical power and combat experience in this age, he could play Link to death.
Voldemort glared into the fog with a sinister smile.
He knew Link's next attack was coming soon.
After all, in that beast-form, Link's dictionary contained only one word, attack.
This time, Voldemort would make Link understand who the strongest being in this world truly was.
And he'd reclaim the dignity he just lost.
But just as Voldemort gathered strength, ready to erase Link the instant he launched a spell, a faint spatial fluctuation suddenly rose behind him.
Voldemort jolted in shock, spun around, and saw Link, his body shrouded in black smoke and cold mist, burst from twisted space, spine arched, arms bent, and in a bizarre posture smashed out a punch.
BOOM!
The fist, wrapped in black-and-white magic, struck Voldemort's stunned face.
Under the enormous force, Voldemort became a streaking afterimage and was slammed into the rock wall.
The battlefield fell silent.
Hunters and Death Eaters alike lowered their wands involuntarily.
The sight was too shocking.
The invincible Voldemort... had been punched away?!
It wasn't just the spectators; even Voldemort himself, now embedded in stone, had never expected this.
After all, long-range attacks were a BUG-level gift bestowed by nature.
Wizards, who wielded magic, had perfected this ability.
Which was why modern wizard battles were considered quite elegant, meaning long-range magical exchanges.
Even when wizards struck dramatic, embarrassingly edgy poses (yes, Voldemort, that means you), these were still considered elegant by wizarding standards.
But what had Link just done?
He had abandoned this "elegant" combat style that wizards had developed over generations, and instead used close-quarters combat like a werewolf or vampire, those lowly creatures.
Simply putting the cart before the horse.
Yet everyone had to admit this crude move produced far greater results than expected.
Pure spellcasting alone couldn't have dealt any real damage to Voldemort.
After a few seconds of eerie silence, a tidal wave of cheering erupted from the Hunters' side.
Link's action was undeniably the greatest encouragement possible for them in their dire predicament.
They were the first to recover and launch a fresh round of counterattacks.
Morale surging, even the power of their spells grew, momentarily forcing the Death Eaters' heads down.
Emily and Krell were probably the only two among the Hunters who couldn't smile.
Unlike the others, their eyes stayed fixed on Link.
And to them, Link's state looked terrifyingly strange.
He crouched on all fours like a beast, white frost and black smoke entwining around him, making those scarlet eyes even more crazed and savage.
"Link…" Emily's face was filled with worry. She clenched her fists and shouted toward the Holy Elders who were being tightly protected in the center, "How's the progress on breaking the Anti-Disapparition Charm!?"
The elders were sweating from anxiety.
The leading old man shouted back without looking up, "We're too few! We need at least 3 more minutes before we can use the Portkey! As for how long until Apparition works again, we can't estimate it at all!"
A flush of anger spread across Emily's cheeks.
She forced down the impulse to yell at them to hurry and looked up at the sky.
And right then, Link, standing on air as easily as solid ground, moved.
He didn't continue attacking Voldemort inside the huge cavern. Instead, he half-straightened his body, tilted his head, hunched his back, arms hanging loose. The posture looked casual, yet wild and powerful.
And perhaps it was an illusion, but everyone felt a smile on that nearly-invisible face.
A… mocking smile.
As if Link were whispering into each person's ear, "Is that all? The mighty Voldemort, the Second Dark Lord, this is all he's got?"
Voldemort himself likely heard it.
Because not long after Link struck that taunting pose, Voldemort burst from the cavern amid a violent explosion.
He looked rather disheveled.
His once-flowing silk robes were now reduced to rags.
Without them, his pale, thin yet sinewy body was fully exposed to all.
"You will pay for this!"
Voldemort roared toward the sky.
Though his face was swollen, the killing intent pouring off him only grew thicker.
Anyone could see it, Voldemort was truly enraged now.
However, it did him no good.
The next moment, Link, fully in "Mike Time", pulled the same trick as before. With a rippling distortion of space, he flashed behind Voldemort and struck with a bizarre, brutal kick.
BOOM!
Voldemort was blasted away again.
But unlike before, this time he was prepared.
Shrouded in blood-red light, he barely took any damage. He stopped himself mid-air and shot back toward Link even faster.
Seeing this, Link didn't hesitate, he threw another punch straight at him.
A blast detonated.
Blood-red and black-white crashed together.
A fierce gale erupted. Rock walls, already shaved down by previous fighting, shattered again, dissolving layer by layer in the overflow of magic. The surging shockwave flattened every spell cast by Hunters and Death Eaters alike, forcing everyone to shield their faces and drop to the ground.
And this… was only the beginning.
As Link and Voldemort's deadlock dragged on, the overflowing magic gathered, linking the rock walls on both sides, forming a terrifying spiral vortex.